Thoughts On How To "Getter Done"

Do as I say, not as I do. That caveat goes first, because what follows is a pile of advice I give myself and then ignore about half the time.

Stop thinking about the thing and go handle it. Count the times you've turned some small chore over in your head without ever acting on it. That mental loop takes up room. The old line about not putting off till tomorrow what you could finish today still holds, even if it sounds like something embroidered on a pillow.

When you spot it, act on it. If you catch yourself wondering whether you've drifted into hoarding, don't waste energy second-guessing yourself. For me it's clothes, mine and my husband's both. I hang onto them because I'm scared I'll wish I hadn't tossed them. The real options are three: throw out, hand off, or put back where they belong. Picking none of those and leaving it for "later" is how the pile grows.

Notice who's hovering around your choices, people from years back and people in the room right now, all ready to question what you decide. The longer that goes on, the more you come across as someone who can't commit, which hands them even more to pick at. A lot of those folks live by a simple dodge: point the finger somewhere else so it never lands on them.

If a thing truly can wait, fine, but set a date for it that falls before the deadline, not on it. Taxes work that way for me. I book a time with our accountant and give the two weeks ahead of it over to nothing but taxes. And when you do blow it and there's a price to pay, pay it, file it under lessons learned, and aim to do better next round.

Once you're already in motion, push a little past the bare minimum each time.

Commit to whatever you're doing. The old saying holds: a job worth doing is worth doing well. Compare that to being the critic, which is about the easiest role going. The critic never has to lend a hand or even stop to think.

You can teach yourself things instead of running to someone else for every answer. New appliances are my sticking point. I skip the manual. (If yours has gone missing, it's almost certainly online somewhere.) And when the gadget turns out broken, or short a part, or shipped with instructions that read like a riddle, well, whoever wrote those instructions clearly never had to follow them. Did that writer stand in your shoes, or hand the draft to someone who'd never touched the device and watch them flounder?

Those gizmos you bought and never once used: before they hit the trash, give them an honest try. If they still won't cooperate after that, out they go.

Reward yourself for what got finished, not for the heap still sitting undone. And don't count on applause from anyone else. The one person guaranteed to register that you accomplished something is you.

Think about how many projects look like nothing at all until the very last piece goes in. Ever watched someone assemble a thing where you genuinely cannot tell if it works, or even what it is, until it's complete? If that someone is you, reward yourself no matter how it turns out, because a useless result that can't be salvaged can always be chucked. Give it the old heave-ho.

Resist the urge to overwork it. Ask whether the task is actually worth the extra minutes you're pouring into getting it flawless. Practice is what sharpens you anyway. Kids never fall into this trap. An idea hits them mid-play and they simply run with it.

I keep coming back to the clutter in your head. The point is that you can clear it, and the time you free up can go to fly-fishing, or sitting still to meditate, or some other thing that actually feeds you. Even the idle stretches can turn useful, filled with whatever you've been meaning to get to.

My mother had one rule I've never improved on. I was a girl forever in the middle of some "project," and rather than making me pack every last thing away each night, she had me gather the tools and materials into one bundle and stash them up out of the way. Nobody tripped over them, nothing wandered off, and the next day I could pull the bundle down and keep going without hunting for a single missing piece.

Quit doing the chores you've decided don't earn their keep. Making the bed in the morning, for instance, when you could just smooth the covers before climbing in at night. My mother, bless her, used to iron the sheets. Can you name one person who still does that? Keep in mind that the bedrooms in every ad have been staged to look crisp and clean and irresistible. No real bedroom looks like that, except maybe a hotel room in the thirty seconds before you've walked through the door.

The single best tip I ever picked up: company showing up unannounced? On your way to answer the door, plant the vacuum dead center on the floor as if you were right in the thick of cleaning, or just flip the Roomba on. Mine lives by the front door in the living room already, since we've got no coat closet to hide it in. So there you have it. I'm ready for anything.

While you're doing one thing, just do that thing. Quit replaying yesterday's leftovers or rehearsing tomorrow's list. Keep a notepad within reach, paper or on your phone, so the stuff you want to hold onto but can't act on yet has somewhere to land. You could even use the stretch to learn the Gettysburg Address while you load the dishwasher. These days I sing or play hymns while I work, on the chance I might offer one up at church someday as a special.

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